


Flowers For the Soul

by TheLastWhiteRose



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Angst, Friendship, I haven't decided yet, It's gonna be fluffy as shit, Language, Love Triangle, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Slow Burn, There is no maybe to the angst, Unrequited Love, there might be angst, there might be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastWhiteRose/pseuds/TheLastWhiteRose
Summary: To the rest of the world, Viktor Nikiforov was untouchable. As the sole owner of Nikiforov Enterprises, a successful wedding planner corporation, he had very little time for romance. That is, until he meets florist boy Yuuri Katsuki.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually based off a Tumblr post! I can't find it on Tumblr, but the original idea comes from there, where Chris is a high end restaurant manager, but that doesn't stop Viktor from calling him after dinner service is over and whining about all the things his crush did to emotionally compromise him that day.

To the rest of the world, Viktor Nikiforov was untouchable. He was the sole owner of Nikiforov Enterprises, a company that specialized in wedding planning and spanned the entirety of Russia and some of Eastern Europe, with over 100 international offices. His impeccable taste in decorations and gourmet food had caused him to become extremely meticulous about his selections, in both his personal life and professional one. With the exponential amount of effort that Viktor extruded daily, there was little room for romance. It was too much of a compromise, dividing his attention between the two things he loved. At the age of twenty-seven, he'd resigned himself to the fact that he'd die alone with Makkachin. That was, until he met Yuuri Katsuki.

It had been a relatively uneventful day. Viktor was in the midst of a heated arguement with his go-to florist, who was debating the cost of custom-grown chrysanthemums. Viktor, who had always considered himself generous, couldn't accept the fact that Georgi wanted five thousand euros for golden dyed chrysanthemums. Georgi, on the other hand, had spent both time and money on those flowers, and he'd be damned if he didn't get at least fifty percent back. Tempers had run high, which had led the two to where they were now.

“You're such a cheap piece of shit, Viktor, but what else can I expect from a fucking Russian?” Georgi’s tone could cut wood, with how much malice and venom he projected. “These flowers are three months of my life, and if they aren't sold at this price, then what's the point?” Before Viktor could get a word in edgewise, Georgi lashed out once more. “You know what? I shouldn't be talked to this way. Take your stingy-ass somewhere else for flowers. I don't want your business anymore.” With that, he slammed the phone down, leaving Viktor stunned speechless.

When at last Viktor regained his composure, he stared dumbfoundedly at his cellphone. Georgi had always been a decent supplier. When Viktor had first started out as a wedding planner seven years ago, Georgi had provided him with dirt-cheap bouquets, saying that it was only fair. Viktor briefly pondered the thought of calling Georgi back, before his pride intervened and shut down that immediately. With no florist, Viktor sat down at his loveseat, opening his MacBook. He wasn't used to this feeling of indecisiveness, but he had to get those chrysanthemums somehow. Heaving a breath, Viktor’s hand hovered over the search bar, before rapidly typing in the words, “Florists near me”.

After a couple hours of mindless rummaging, Viktor was nearly hopeless. Most, if not all, of these florists were the exact same. They were all used to providing flowers for love-sick boys who wanted to impress the girls they were pining after. He doubted that they would be able to provide for such a large event, and even if they would, he had a distinct feeling that they wouldn't have the style he needed. He sighed. One more link, and he was finished for the night. If this store didn't turn up anything, he'd call Georgi in the morning and apologize for his rude behavior. Viktor clicked on the website, and was immediately greeted to the sight of a short, dark-haired male holding a pot of budding tiger lilies. He scanned the site, daring to hope. Could this be what he had spent hours slaving over? Underneath the general information was a phone number, which Viktor quickly typed into his phone.

“This is Katsuki’s Floral Arrangements. My name is Yuuri, and I will be assisting you today. How can I help you?” The voice that sounded was optimistic, but monotonous, as if he had rehearsed those lines over and over again. Viktor replayed those words in his head, and concluded that the voice was, in fact, male.

He cleared his throat, suddenly remembering how to speak, and launched into his tirade. “My name is Viktor Nikiforov, and I am planning a wedding. There will be roughly about three hundred people attending this event, with ten people seated at a table. I would require one centerpiece per table, as well as twenty-one additional bouquets for the alter. Each bouquet would have roughly about twenty flowers, with the fifty-first bouquet an assortment of roses. The rest would be of a dyed chrysanthemum and lily mixture. Do you think that you can provide this for me?”

Viktor heard the telltale signs of a calculator clicking, as well as harried curses underneath Yuuri’s breath. “Uh...Okay, so how many chrysanthemums would you require? We only have about 300 in stock. If you wanted half and half for the chrysanthemum and lily mixture, I don't think that'd be enough. I mean, unless we boosted the lily amount…”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, but Viktor was secretly overjoyed at the prospect of actually getting the flowers. “I suppose that would be fine. However, I would still require a consultation with you or one of your fellow employees, just to see if you have the colors and patterns that I would prefer. Is tomorrow at...” Viktor flipped through his agenda, and after finding an empty space, picked up a pen to begin scribbling on it. “Is tomorrow at noon manageable?”

“U-Uh, yeah. We can discuss the price of this at your consultation too.” Yuuri sounded panicked, to which Viktor understood. His matter-of-fact tone often flustered the sensitive, and judging from the way Yuuri had been speaking, he was most definitely sensitive.

“Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Yuuri.” Viktor hung up, a grin coercing its way to his handsome face. 

After the adrenaline rush of fluttering someone had passed, Viktor released a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. He hadn't been this unprepared since he had first started, when he had been friendless and alone in the cutthroat wedding planner business. Viktor stood up, and went to grab a bottle of wine. He deserved it after the day he'd had. With his phone and a glass of the Pinot Grigio, he dialed Chris’ number, whose dinner service should've ended by now. Viktor took a sip of the white wine, and began filling the blonde haired male on the details of his day.


	2. The Consultation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor goes to a consultation for his flower needs, but this one has one distinct difference: a cute florist boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri Plisetsky cameo! This is probably really OOC, haha. I tried, okay? It was 3 AM when I wrote this, and 5:30 when I posted it.

Sunlight streamed through Viktor’s azure curtains, casting light blue shadows across the darkened room. It was certainly a pleasant way to be woken, and if Viktor had been sober, he certainly would've appreciated the light-hearted aesthetic of the awakening. However, Viktor was most definitely not sober, and was not in any mood to commend nature’s beauty. Instead of a comfortable stretch and a childish skip to the bathroom, there was only the dull ache of loneliness and too much to drink. 

Viktor rolled out of bed halfheartedly, his feet hitting the ground long before his mind registered the impact. He pet the ground below him, searching for Makkachin before realizing he was petting his lounge chair. With his pride and his head now aching, he strode to the bathroom, attempting to piece together exactly what had happened. The last thing he remembered was having a glass of wine, Makkachin curled in his lap as he relayed his arguement with Georgi to Christophe. Christophe had suggested getting drinks, and everything that happened afterwards was a blur. Viktor rested his head in his hands, before abruptly snapping back up in panic. Depending on the time, he was either going to be late to his consultation, or so tardy that he may as well not even go. He cast a hopeless glance towards the clock, and was relieved to find that it was only seven minutes past eleven, and that he had nearly half an hour to get ready.

His first order of business was to select an outfit. There were more pressing matters, of course, such as basic hygiene or perhaps informing Yuuri that he would be late, but they paled in comparison to how Viktor would look. To him, fashion was more than just the clothes he wore or the accessories he donned. It was statement; that Viktor was here, he was queer, and he was ready to party. His post-hangover mind mulled this thought for much too long, before reaching the conclusion that his stripper outfit would be considered, ‘inappropriate’ and, ‘illegal’ by anybody who saw him. Instead, Viktor opted for simple black jeans and a t-shirt. 

Now that his outfit was decided, Viktor took a brisk shower, and brushed his teeth. Normally, he'd apply an imperceptible amount of foundation, to hide the blemishes from his late night expenditures, but even if he left now, he would barely make it to his appointment on time. As he stepped into his custom painted Maserati Quattroporte, he was instantly struck by a wave of alcohol, filling his nostrils with the putrid stench. Had he been driving last night? As much as his mind would've loved to relive the previous evening, he did have arrangements, and with determination Viktor didn't know he had, he turned the key and backed out of the driveway.

Katsuki’s Floral Arrangements was located within a relatively busy sector of the city. It was lodged between a David’s Bridal and a Pottery Barn. Much like the rest of the street, its exterior was made of maroon bricks, with gorgeous flowers protruding from the interior of the building. Viktor pulled over to the side, doing his best to parallel park. He stepped out, appearing every bit as professional and suave as the CEO he was. Pushing a lock of his silver hair out of his eyes, Viktor strode towards the florist. Out of the corner of his eye, he briefly registered a whirlwind of blonde hair before the initial impact of Viktor’s body being slammed into the wall.

For a moment, the two men lie on the ground, motionless as they gasped in pain. The blonde man was the first one to recover, throwing a disgusted glance towards Viktor. “Watch where you're going next time, pretty boy.” He sneered at Viktor, who was weakly attempting to prop himself up on his elbows. Recognition flickered in the man’s cerulean orbs. “You’re Viktor Niki-what’s it, aren't you? The big shot.”

Viktor stood up, having fully regained his composure, and sent a dazzling smile towards the blonde male. It was the same smile that had been on dozens of entrepreneur magazine covers. “Yes, I am. Would you like an autograph? I'm sure I have a-” he was cut off by a large snort, and glanced up just in time to catch the other man’s haughty expression.

“Why on earth would I want your autograph? You aren't famous or anything.” He began laughing. “Katsudon was freaking out yesterday because somebody wanted three hundred fucking chrysanthemums. Said they were planning a wedding or something. God, me wanting YOUR autograph, what a joke.”

“Yuri, what'd I tell you about insulting customers?” A dark haired man appeared in the doorway. Viktor immediately recognized him as the same man as in the website’s photos. “Ah, you must be Viktor. I'm Yuuri, the owner. Don't mind Yuri. He's a sweetheart when you get to know him.” He offered Viktor his hand, which Viktor shook tentatively. “Come in, we've got much to discuss.”

Yuuri led Viktor into the shop, where he was immediately bombarded with the fragrant scent of hundreds of different flowers. It was certainly a pleasant place to work, in comparison to the office where Viktor, more often than not, would spend his time. Yuuri led him to the back room, taking a seat and gesturing for Viktor to the same. Once they were both seated, Yuuri smiled warmly at Viktor.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?” Yuuri asked kindly, his saccharine tone matching his gentle expression.

“Tea would be great, actually,” Viktor responded, watching as Yuuri stood up immediately to boil water. 

As the Yuuri worked, Viktor took the time to fully observe the man in front of him. From what he could see, Yuuri stood at a solid 5’8, and most likely came from Asian descent. He was good-looking, and judging from the tentative way he strode around the room, was sensitive and caring. After a couple of minutes, Yuuri returned with two cups of tea, sliding one over to Viktor gently.

“So,” Viktor said, taking a sip of the tea. “I've done the math, and I would need about one thousand and twenty flowers. Twenty of those would be roses, seven hundred would be lilies, and three hundred would be chrysanthemums. The wedding is on August 27th, two weeks from today, so that'd give you a bit of time to prepare.”

“T-That's short notice…” Yuuri’s eyes betrayed his inner panic, darting back and forth. “I-I don't have much experience catering to large events. T-The most I've ever done was around five hundred flowers to Christophe Giacommete’s restaurant, and he gave me months to prepare!” Yuuri’s pale face burst into scarlet blush. Viktor couldn't help but chuckle at the adorable nature of the man sitting in front of him. “How much would you be willing to pay for the flowers?”

“Tsk, tsk. That's a rudimentary mistake, Yuuri.” Viktor reprimended him teasingly, throwing him a dashing smirk. “You don't ever ask an entrepreneur how much they're willing to pay, because what sounds fair to you might be extremely cheap to them.” Viktor stopped, replaying Yuuri’s words in his mind. “However, since you've serviced my good friend Chris in the past, I'll be kind: six hundred for the chrysanthemums, twenty five for the roses, and fourteen hundred for the tiger lilies. That comes out to two thousand and twenty five dollars, but since you're cute, I'll offer you twenty-one hundred for everything.”

Yuuri stared, his eyes wide at Viktor’s outward display of confidence. “Y-Yeah, that sounds great!” He said enthusiastically. “S-So, it’s settled, then, right? You can text me the details later, o-or…” Yuuri trailed off, face bright red. “O-Or if you, you know, wanted to see me again to hang out or something, that'd be cool.” He scribbled his phone number on a napkin, handing it to Viktor. “I'll be right back with your receipt, V-Viktor.”

Viktor nodded, and the moment Yuuri left the room, Viktor began composing an angry text message to Chris. 

‘OMG u met a cute florist and u didn't tell me??? Ure such a meanie Chris.’

A couple of minutes later, Viktor received a reply.

‘Wanted to keep him all to myself ;) BRB lunch service is about to start’

A daisy was placed in front of Viktor, as well as a receipt stating his transactions. Above him stood Yuuri, his face bright red as he waited for Viktor to sign the receipt. When he did, Yuuri flashed him a shy smile.

“Don't be afraid to call me, okay?” He asked, leading Viktor to the front door. Yuuri, unsure of what to do with his arms, opted for a quick handshake before sending Viktor on his way.

For the first time in what might've been years, Viktor blushed. There was very little that could fluster him, none of those being a boy, after all. He was tempted to call Christophe, but decided it could wait until later that night. After all, he had a daisy to keep alive.


	3. Literally Anything Would Make Me Happier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A late night phone call to Christophe ends abruptly, leaving both Christophe and Viktor in the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for hiatus! No, but I'm really sorry. I started writing this in China, and then had to adjust to my school life back in the States before I could continue this. Two months later, and I'm back to where I was before I went to China! Thanks for all the great feedback.

“What is it, you bumbling fool?” Christophe’s Swiss drawl was barely heard over the commotion of what was bound to be his employees. “For the last time, Otabek, the risotto has to be sautéed with very little wine! If one more customer complains about the level of alcohol, you'll be on your ass faster than Fantine once they found out she was a filthy whore!”

Viktor rolled his eyes, content to listening to the humdrum of restaurant life. Otabek Altin was Christophe’s most talented protegé. Born with devastatingly good looks and a shocking knack for gourmet cuisine, Otabek had simply arrived one day, owning little more than the clothes on his back. He'd given Christophe the standard sob story, though with considerably less flair than Christophe’s other protégés. Apparently, he’d come from a traditional Kazakhstan family, one that had subsequently taken the news of their only son being gay less than gracefully. Viktor had only met the chef once in his life, and while he had been exceedingly dexterous in matters of food, he had also been extremely aloof in terms of his attitude. Viktor had found it difficult to hold conversation. The only thing that he was interested in other than cooking, according to Christophe, was the flower boy delivery driver.

“Christophe,” interrupted Viktor, his voice firm, but courteous. “As much as I enjoy hearing the mundane sounds of peasants working, I do believe we had a call scheduled for tonight.” He paused briefly, allowing Christophe barely enough time to bark at his employees the command to leave. When the angry mutterings of disgruntled chefs settled, Viktor lowered his voice. “Are we alone now?” He said sultrily, his tone teasing. 

“Yes, you buffoon. What was it you wanted to talk to me about? If it's about fucking flowers again, I swear I'll choke you, Büebli.” Christophe threatened, before softening his tone. “However, if it's any indication by your speech, I'd be happy to oblige whatever sexual deviation you wish.”

It wasn't entirely a jape. Throughout Viktor’s illustrious and extensive love life, Christophe had always been there when Viktor had returned scathed, both his heart and mentality wounded. He'd fallen repeatedly into Chris’ arms, and subsequently, his bed. It'd been nothing serious, of course, but after the first time, the circumstances between the two had never been the same. They'd both agreed that, coupled with their elaborate lives and offputting personalities, they'd make terrible boyfriends to one another. That didn't stop them from making off-handed comments on each other’s dick sizes in front of company, an activity that brought the two of them great joy.

“Alright, alright,” Christophe brushed the shame of the their previous experiences away, preferring not to think at all. “So, you texted me in the middle of lunch service, and about a boy, no less. The flower shop boy, Katsudon, or whatever.”

Excitement bubbled inside of Viktor, finally spilling as he began speaking. “Yeah, and he's great and so cute, and he's got this soft voice and this REALLY NICE ASS and he was really nice and he got me a daisy, a daisy no less for me to take home even though I didn't order any daisies and-”

Christophe cut Viktor’s seemingly endless tirade down with a harsh harrumph. “Viktor, breathe! I can barely understand what you're saying underneath that ugly ass Russian accent. Start from the beginning.”

Viktor obliged, taking a deep breath before he continued, calmed. “So, I went in for an appointment today, and there was the cutest guy at there. His name was Yuuri and he was really sweet, with the thickest thighs I've ever fucking seen, like goddamn.” Viktor paused, the air pregnant with mild curiosity on Christophe’s part. “He gave me his number, and before I left, he gave me a daisy, and it's so cute, and he's so cute that I can't even right now.”

Christophe didn't respond. For a couple minutes, only the sound of Christophe’s calculator resonated, its plastic keys clacking together. In all honesty, he was stunned. Viktor had called him before to talk about guys, but these were usually reserved for disasters, so the two could have a laugh at the poor man’s expense. Even now, he could briefly recall Viktor sleeping with Mickey, their mutual ‘friend’ and fashion designer. He'd described it as, “the worst mistake of my life”, but Christophe knew that the genuine worst mistake of his life was when he'd dated Sara Crispino at an attempt to convince himself that he was, in fact, straight. Viktor was an attractive man, and he was richer than most of the population. Christophe admired him, and as much as he hated to admit it, had allowed himself the occasional daydream featuring a healthy, sustainable relationship between the two.

After realizing that Viktor was awaiting a response, Christophe cleared his throat, brushing away any lingering disappointment. “Y-Yeah, he sounds great, Vitya. Great for you, I mean. Not great for me.” He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair.

“I know, right? He's really sweet and he gave me his number. I'm thinking of calling him and asking him on a date. Do you think I should?”

“L-Listen, Viktor, I've got to settle everything at the restaurant. I'll call you back, but you should do whatever you want, seriously.” Christophe said into the phone, before abruptly pressing the end button.

He took a couple shaky breaths, feeling immense disappointment. He knew he shouldn't, as his relationship with Viktor had always been exclusively best friend with benefits, nothing more and nothing less. He ran a hand across his face, searching for any miscreant tears, before going back to his receipts wordlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, your criticism and feedback is always appreciated! Also, I'm sorry for sticking that love triangle thing at the end, and if anything seems a bit choppy.


End file.
